


Fighting Fire With Fire

by Sakharov



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Rumbelle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-07 20:32:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4276989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sakharov/pseuds/Sakharov
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dark One and Ruby grudgingly agree to work together to rescue Belle from the cloisters. As that is a part of their world where magic doesn't work, it is a daunting mission, but as Rumplestiltskin reminds himself, what matters is rescuing Belle, no matter the cost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Course of Our Fate

Chapter 1: The Course of Our Fate

 

Rumplestiltskin stood rigidly at one end of the great hall of the Dark Castle, looking out at the storm clouds gathering over the mountains. 

It had been several months since he had let Belle go and she had returned and he had driven her away again. He felt as empty and broken as he had in the first years of being the Dark One, before he had gained some control over the curse. He had always tried to fight it, to prevent the darkness from consuming him entirely, but that no longer seemed to matter. She was gone, and this time she wouldn’t be coming back. 

Conjuring storms was one outlet he had found for his pain and anger, and the village at the base of the mountains looked up at the clouds perpetually gathered around the castle and wondered what could have happened to so upset the Dark One. 

The wind outside was picking up speed and lightening cracked across the sky. Rumplestiltskin smiled thinly to himself. He found a certain solace in seeing just how terrible of a storm he could conjure, and at least that didn’t require restoration magic, as casting fireballs in the castle did. 

He was trying to decide between a lightening storm or a blizzard, when he heard a knocking on the front door of the castle and scowled. He was in no mood to see anyone, but that wouldn’t stop them from coming in anyway. It would be a blizzard, he decided, so that whoever it was would have a fun trip back down the mountain. That’s what they got for intruding upon him. 

As the first snowflakes began to fall, the door to the hall creaked opened, but he didn’t turn around. Let them be reminded who the master of the castle was. 

“Rumplestiltskin.” It was a woman’s voice.

He turned to see a young woman near the entrance to the hall. Although she didn’t venture further in, she boldly met his gaze. There was something magical about her, although it was a magic very different than his own, a type of wild magic. She had dark hair with a streak of red, and her clothes were those of a peasant, except for the red cloak she wore. The cloak looked familiar… ah, yes, he remembered. He had given it to the girl’s grandmother a number of years ago. 

“They call you Ruby Lucas, don’t they?” he asked, using the sing-song voice he used to be unnerving and smiling nastily when she looked taken aback that he knew who she was. “I know who you are dearie, because I never forget whom I’ve done business with. I trust by now you know you can control the transformations?”

“Yes, but I like the color red so I decided to keep the cloak,” she said, recovering well from the surprise. 

“Well, then, what brings you to the Dark Castle on such a lovely evening, Miss Lucas?” he drawled, quirking an eyebrow at her.

“I’m here about Belle. I take it you don’t know. You’ve probably been too busy here playing with the weather,” said Ruby, her voice hard.

The mention of Belle caused his heart to skip a beat, but centuries of being the Dark One allowed him to successfully hide all the emotions her name conjured. 

The woman had courage, he would give her that. There weren’t many who would dare to talk to him that way.

“I beg your pardon? Belle does not live here anymore. I suggest you leave before I have a new wolf pelt to add to my collection,” he snarled, advancing towards her, defaulting to anger and disdain to hide any other emotion. 

But Ruby just rolled her eyes at him. “You idiot, she was trying to return to you.”

Rumplestiltskin froze, halfway across the hall, not daring to hope, making sure his feelings didn’t show. But if Belle had tried to return…what was Ruby doing here? He was saved from not having an intelligent response by her continuing to talk. 

“After you pushed her away she returned to her father’s lands, but soon after she was determined to return once more to try to make things work.” Ruby’s tone made it clear what she thought of that. “But before she could leave the orders were given for her to be taken to the cloisters, and they did so, although she put up a fight. They thought she was unclean and bewitched by you.”

Anger coursed through him that anyone would dare to decide Belle’s fate for her, but it was tempered by the cold fear that settled in his stomach at the mention of the cloisters. Of all the parts of their world, that was one he avoided. 

“When?” he asked, trying to buy time to collect himself and not to appear completely inarticulate. 

“At least a few weeks ago. It took me a while to find out what happened to her, and then it took longer than it should have to get up here to find you because of the weather.” She scowled at him. “So it’s bad, is it?”

“Yes,” he nodded, his brain already forming and dismissing possible rescue scenarios. 

“Well?” she demanded when he remained silently standing in the middle of the hall. “Why don’t you poof off and bring her back?”

He narrowed his eyes. “I do not poof,” he growled. “And it’s a good deal more complicated than that.”

“But you’re the Dark One,” she said.

He laughed bitterly. “Aye, that I am, but that is a part of our world where magic is… warped, and thus a rescue will require a bit more planning.” She didn’t need to know why exactly, and he was in no mood to give a history lesson.

“All right then,” Ruby said, nodding. “What are we going to do about it?”

“We? There is no “we” in this, Miss Lucas. I will handle this myself,” Rumplestiltskin growled.

“I’m going with you. If magic doesn’t work there, it seems any help should be welcome,” she said stubbornly. 

“I work alone.” He glared at her, but she met his gaze evenly. “And it’s not that magic doesn’t work, it just…” He trailed off, lost in thought, mentally reviewing the pages in the old history books in his library.

“I care about her too, you know. She’s my best friend,” Ruby said softly after a long moment, bringing him back to the present. 

He studied her. Ruby was standing, arms crossed, watching him defiantly. The woman was tough and she would do well in a fight. And he had to remember this was about getting Belle out, and a second person would prove helpful, especially considering… Well, no need to think about that now. 

Finally Rumplestiltskin sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Fine,” he bit out reluctantly. “We head out at first light tomorrow. I’ll show you to your rooms for the night.” And he swept past her out of the hall.

When she didn’t follow him, he rolled his eyes and turned around.

“I’m not that type of monster, dearie,” he said icily. “But if you’d rather sleep outside, be my guest.”

They both turned to look out the window, where snow was falling heavily. He raised an eyebrow at her and she reluctantly followed him up to the second floor where he waved a hand down the corridor.

“The suite of rooms on the right should be suitable.” Belle’s rooms. But best not to dwell on that now.

He continued on upward into the tower, to his workshop. He would not sleep that night (as the Dark One he didn’t need to sleep, but he enjoyed it), for there were preparations to be made. Preparations for travel, preparations for a rescue, preparations for a fight he had put off for a long time, hoping he would never have a reason to fight it. 

Just before dawn the storm ended and the sky cleared. Rumplestiltskin stood by the window in his tower and looked out at the night sky and breathed in the crisp cold winter air. The stars and moon shone down on the snow-covered landscape and it was a beautiful view, but his thoughts were elsewhere.

He was thinking about Belle. He thought about how she had come into his life, how it hadn’t been the first time he had offered such a deal, but it was the first time someone accepted. He had been surprised – that type of deal wasn’t meant to be accepted. It was like when he asked for babies as collateral – it was amusing, but people weren’t supposed to actually accept such terms. But Belle had, and with that bold decision she had altered the course of their fates.

Rumplestiltskin hadn’t really known what to do with her when she had arrived. It had been so long since there was someone else in the Dark Castle. He remembered how their relationship had somehow progressed from that of master and servant to something more. Certain memories stood out in his mind… Belle’s face when he showed her the library, when she fell off the ladder and he had been able to play the hero and catch her, the first time she had beaten him at chess… For those few years he had had a friend, someone to talk to, someone special. But as he realized the extent of his feelings for her and he thought it best for her to leave and he had let her go, because he couldn’t imagine she could ever feel similarly for him.

But then she had returned. His hand unconsciously strayed to his lips as he remembered that moment. That brief moment when he had held Belle in his arms and she had kissed him and he had seen the possibility of a happy ending before the curse reasserted itself. But too many years as the Dark One, too many years of suspicion and anger and fear and pain prevented him from embracing the chance for happiness. He had been terrified of life without the curse and he had been unable or unwilling to believe that anyone could love him. And so he had sent her away. He would never forgive himself for that, and if anything happened to her… gods help the fools at the cloisters. 

He snatched his hand away and pulled himself out of his reverie and away from the window, turning back inside to return to his books. It wouldn’t do to face what was coming unprepared. 

What mattered was rescuing Belle, no matter the cost. 

***


	2. The Heroine Of Her Own Life

 

_~A month before Ruby goes to Rumplestiltskin~_

 

The man in black robes in the shadows watched the confrontation with some interest. Judge Claude Frollo, as one of the highest emissaries of the Order, had been sent to Lord Maurice French’s kingdom because of its proximity to the lands of the Dark One. The Dark One, as the most powerful sorcerer in the realm, had long been of special interest to the Order. 

Frollo had been there a little over a year, and now it seemed as if all those painful hours spent in the company of French might actually pay off. The man was an insufferable bore and whiny, but his daughter seemed to be a different matter completely. It was her time spent with the Dark One that drew Frollo’s attention.

The girl – what was her name again? – probably hadn’t meant for it turn into a shouting match. She had slipped into the throne room to talk to her father, but the conversation had escalated. It was French standing up (perhaps he was trying to intimidate his daughter) that drew Frollo’s attention.

“You will not go back! Belle, what madness is this, that you want to return to the monster?” French said loudly, angrily, but with an undercurrent of fear.

“It’s my life, Father, and he’s not a monster,” Belle returned defiantly, eyes flashing. She had some steel in her, Frollo would give her that. “I wasn’t asking you for your permission; I was telling you.”

“You’re not in your right mind. He must have put a spell on you. You’re a different person now than you were before.”

As French spoke, Frollo casually touched the pendant – a black opal – that hung at his neck. No, the girl wasn’t under any enchantment…which meant she was choosing to return of her own accord. Most interesting.

Belle rolled her eyes at her father’s words, and Frollo couldn’t blame her. Of course she was different after spending several years with the Dark One, after being subjected to whatever vile purpose the imp had wanted her for.

“I’m leaving tomorrow, of my own free will. I’m under no spell,” she said. “I was hoping for your blessing, but I’m going with or without it.” And she turned and strode out of the throne room.

Frollo lingered in the shadows for a little longer, allowing himself to be amused at her blatant statement of her plans. Silly girl, he thought. He took a moment to compose himself, to wipe off the smirk and to assume the expression of grave pious concern that he often adopted when he had to talk to French, and approached the throne.

“My Lord,” said Frollo, approaching French and bowing slightly.

“Judge Frollo,” French said distractedly, still fixed on the exchange he had had with his daughter.

“If we might speak in private, I possibly have a remedy to your situation.”

The two men went into one of the private rooms off of the hall.

“I couldn’t help overhear your discussion with Belle,” said Frollo, being sure in inject the appropriate amount of concern and sympathy in his voice.

“I don’t know what to do,” French said desperately. “I can’t believe she would go back…”

“Obviously the monster has ensnared her, and we must take measures to remove the curse,” said Frollo. “The Dark One is powerful, but even his magic cannot overcome the strength of the Order.”

“So you can remove the spell?” asked French.

“Not I,” said Frollo. “It requires greater skills than I possess, and will likely take time for the effects to wear off. With your permission, I would take your daughter to the cloisters.”

“You would do that? But that would mean you would have to stop your work here,” said French.

 “Yes,” agreed Frollo, trying to sound mournful. “But this requires an urgent intervention. Without such, she seems set on returning to the castle, and we don’t want to think about what that would mean.”

 Hinting at what the Dark One wanted Belle for worked, and French blanched and agreed. Belle was to go to the cloisters, where the curse would be lifted and she would be purified.

 Frollo allowed himself to smirk once more as he left the room to return to his chambers to plan for the morrow. It seemed as if, after a great deal of waiting, that the stars might be aligning for the Order’s plans, and that the key might rest with the bizarre, and yet unmistakably, horrifyingly real, relations between the girl and the monster. Whatever was between them was genuine enough for her to return to him on her own accord, and that type of devotion could be exactly what was needed.

If she was willing to return to him, perhaps he, in turn, would be willing to go after her. 

***

Belle slipped out of the castle early the next morning. She was sorry about how she had left things with her father, but she was confident in her decision. This this time she wouldn’t let Rumple drive her away.

The night before she had told Ruby, and though her friend didn’t approve, she had grudgingly given her blessing, and that was good enough for Belle. Ruby was her closest friend and almost like a sister – Belle felt closer to her than to anyone else. She had also gotten the clothes she was currently wearing – the tall boots, breeches, vest, flowy white shirt, cloak – from Ruby, as such clothes were not readily available to a noblewoman, even though, in Belle’s opinion, they were much more practical and preferable to dresses and hoop skirts. 

She saddled up in the pre-dawn darkness, the horse and tack familiar, and was on her way before the sun had fully risen. Her heart was light as she trotted along the main road out of the kingdom to the Dark One’s lands. At that pace it would take several days to reach the Castle, but that was alright, as Belle wanted the time to collect her thoughts and plan what she would say to him.

Around mid-morning, as Belle rounded a curve in the road, she saw the way was blocked by soldiers. They weren’t her father’s soldiers though – these wore black armor and black cloaks with no visible insignia and were astride black horses. She didn’t recognize them and they didn’t move aside as she approached.

“What is the meaning of this?” she called out, halting a little ways away.

The soldiers parted for a man in black robes to ride up to her.

“Why, Belle, my dear,” he said snidely. “We were waiting for you.”

Belle frowned and felt the first stirrings of unease. Something wasn’t right. She recognized the man from her father’s court, but they had hardly spoken, other than introductions and she wasn’t clear what he had been doing. She hadn’t liked how he had lurked in the shadows then, and she didn’t like how he was looking at her now. 

“Judge Frollo,” Belle said levelly. “What is it you want? You’re a ways from the castle. Isn’t your business with my father?”

“Today our business is with you. Your seek to return to the Dark One, but it is clear you are not in your right mind, and it is our duty, as servants of the Order, to take steps against the encroachment of Dark Magic.”

“What are you talking about? This is my father’s lands, and you have no right to give orders. And I make my own choices.” Belle tried to stall as she tried to remember if she had ever come across mention of the Order he was talking about in any of her books. 

“Of course. We only act with his permission and under his orders. He would like to see you cleansed as well. We’re to go to the cloisters.”

“Right.” Belle wheeled her horse to try to ride back the way she had come, but more black-clad soldiers had materialized on the road behind her.

“You will not be getting away from us that easily, my dear,” Frollo called. “I suggest you come with us quietly. That would make everything much easier. For you.”

“No chance of that!” Belle drew her sword, more angry than afraid, and slashed at the man who tried to grab her horse’s bridle. The numerous ogre invasions had helped her convince her father that sword-fighting lessons were worthwhile, even though she was a woman, and during her time at the Dark Castle she had continued them. Because of his magic, Rumplestiltskin had seen no danger in continuing to teach her how to fight, and now she was a rather adept swordswoman.

She was able to keep the soldiers at bay initially, but there were too many of them, and one was able to cut her saddle’s girth, and she tumbled sideways into the dirt. Before she could get up, another stepped hard on her sword arm and kicked away her sword. 

 As she cradled her injured wrist, they dragged her roughly to her feet, one coming forward to put a leather cuff on her uninjured arm. He got the cuff on before she kneed him in the groin, but before she could try to take it off, the soldier holding her arm struck her across the face, and a third came forward to grab her other arm.

“You have some skill with a blade and a fighting spirit, but it will go better for you in the future not to struggle,” said Frollo, riding over to stand in front of her, a smirk on his face. “Now that that is taken care of, we shall be on our way. And, my dear, just so you know, it won’t do you any good to call upon the Dark One. The cuff takes care of that, and you won’t be able to take it off. Go on, try.”

But Belle glared at him balefully, feeling blood trickle down her face, and refused to humor him.

“Very well.” He laughed, a mean, ugly sound. “Let us be on our way. We have a journey in front of us. We’ll try to get you some proper clothes sat some point. You are a noblewoman, after all, and should dress like one.” He looked distastefully at her breeches. “And do try to remember, this is all for your own good.”

They tied her hands and put her on one of their own horses and turned hers loose to find its way back to the royal stable. As Belle watched the horse meander back down the road, she thought that if there was any hope of anyone realizing what happened, it was with that horse. Maybe someone would realize something wasn’t right. But it was unlikely.

That night they made camp, a long way from her father’s castle and from the Dark One’s lands. Belle was tied up at the edge of camp, away from the fire, and so she sat in the shadows, but she didn’t mind.

She had stayed stubbornly silent for the entire day, but as that hadn’t accomplished much, she figured she should probably change tactics. She wanted to know what was going on, where exactly they were going, and what they wanted her for. She didn’t buy that this was all for her sake, and so she concluded that something bigger was going on, and she was determined to find out what.

She watched the fire burn down, and the men fall asleep. When the moon was high in the sky and the fire just embers, she decided she had little left to lose and would try to call upon Rumplestiltskin. Despite all that had happened, she hoped he would still answer. Her feelings for him were strong as ever, and the way he had held her, the look in his eyes during their brief moment of intimacy, convinced her that he felt similarly, even if he wouldn’t show it.

“Rumplestiltskin, Rumplestiltskin, Rumplestiltskin.”

The cuff became uncomfortably hot, but nothing else happened. She tried again, many more times, with the same results, at last concluding there must be magic-inhibitors in the cuff, as Frollo had said, strong enough to prevent her calling him.

At least, that’s what she chose to hope was the case.

Her resolve hardened as she watched the stars appear. She would extricate herself from this mess – no one knew what had happened and no one was coming to her aid – and then she would return to the Dark Castle. She had always wanted an adventure, and though this one rather lacked the romantic attributes of the stories in the books, this was her story, and she would be her own heroine. 

***

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aragorn: You have some skill with a blade.   
> Eowyn: The women of this country learned long ago, those without swords can still die upon them. I fear neither death nor pain.   
> Aragorn: What do you fear, my lady?   
> Eowyn: A cage. To stay behind bars until use and old age accept them and all chance of valor has gone beyond recall or desire.   
> Aragorn: You are a daughter of kings, a shield maiden of Rohan. I do not think that will be your fate.


	3. Fighting Magic With Magic

 

Ruby slept better than the thought she would. Though the castle was large and drafty, the fire the Dark One had conjured when he showed her her room was sufficient.  She was surprised that the room was rather cozy, not at all what she would expect to find in the Dark Castle.

Hesitantly she made her way down to the Great Hall to try to find Rumplestiltskin and see what the plan was. She had been reluctant to come and didn’t like or trust him, but she hadn’t known to whom else to turn. Belle had thought enough of him to try to return, and so he seemed the strongest ally she could call upon. From his reaction to the news, he certainly seemed to care a great deal about Belle, although Ruby still wasn’t convinced he could care about anyone.

She found him sitting at the head of the table in the Great Hall, studying a map.

“Can we finally leave, now that you’ve awoken from your beauty sleep?” Rumplestiltskin said mockingly, looking up as she entered, his eyes hard, but she sensed his jeering tone might be to try to cover up other emotions.

Ruby rolled her eyes but only said, “Let’s go. How is this going to work?” They would have to find some way to tolerate each other if they wanted to rescue Belle.

Rumplestiltskin stood up but paused. “What is your preferred weapon?” he asked.

“Normally I just transform,” she said, surprised at the question.

It was the Dark One’s turn to roll his eyes. “And if you can’t? Where we’re going…magic doesn’t quite work.”

Ruby wanted to ask more – how could that even be, somewhere where magic didn’t work? - but she just said, “I’m competent with a sword or with a bow and arrows. Where-“

Rumplestiltskin waved his hand and with a puff of maroon smoke there was a sword, bow, and quiver of arrows on the table in front of her.

He watched her draw the sword and run her fingers down the blade admiringly – it was fine craftsmanship – and then strode out of the hall, carrying a sword of his own and what looked like saddlebags. Ruby hastily buckled on the sword and grabbed the bow and arrows and followed him. She almost ran into him on the steps outside the castle; he had stopped suddenly and was surveying the high mounds of freshly fallen snow with a frown. Ruby bit back a biting remark about how weather magic was only really conducive to barricading oneself in castles and waited for him to make the next move.

“We’ll go to the village at the base of the mountain, where we will get horses and supplies,” he said, his mind apparently made up.

“Horses? What-“ she began but again she was cut off when, with a swirl of smoke, he transported them to the center of the town. The villagers appeared to be familiar with his mode of travel and didn’t give them a second glance. 

Ruby watched as he bought horses and supplies, unsure if she was more surprised that he paid a more-than-fair rate or that the townspeople seemed unafraid of him. He returned to where she was standing and handed her the reins for one of the horses.

As they mounted up, as if he knew what she was thinking, he said dryly, “You’re surprised the townspeople aren’t afraid of the beast? They know that as long as I get a first-born on the first moon of every year I will leave them in peace.”

And he started to trot the road. Ruby hurriedly mounted up and rode after him, wondering if he had been joking. It had almost sounded as if he was, but could it be that the Dark One had a sense of humor?

They reached the edge of the town, and Rumplestiltskin stopped his horse. She rode up next to him, and looked at him curiously. There was a faraway look on his face but before she could ask, he started to speak, his voice bitter.

“We’re going to a kingdom at the edge of our world, very far to the south. I will get us to the border, but from then on we cannot use magic. 

A long time ago, several hundred years ago, the High Cleric of the Order, convinced the King of the kingdom that magic was evil and should be eliminated. It was likely that the Order felt threatened by magic and knew it couldn’t compete. Over the centuries they have gained in power and became the ruling force in the kingdom.

Ours is a world with magic, to try to get rid of is unnatural, but no one stood up until it was too late. It is likely no one in the land realized what they were doing or believed it could happen until it was too late.”

“Charter Stones and Charter Mages were the conduits of magic in this land, but slowly the Order grew in power and they began to hunt down the mages and to use their blood to break the stones. To break a charter stone requires the sacrifice of a mage and a ritual of ancient magic. It is very ancient magic, blood magic, spells that no longer have a place in this world. It is magic that should have been forgotten.”                                    

He gave a harsh bark of laughter and shook his head. “Even as the Order seeks to stamp out magic, they must use magic to do so.

 In the recent decades they have become more aggressive, and through a perverted use of the ancient spells they have been able to put up wards that prevent the use of magic and have tried to strip it from the land. I don’t know how much they’ve accomplished, as it has been over one hundred years since I was last in this kingdom. This type of thing has never been attempted before, and no one knows how far they will get. To do what they’re doing on such a large scale is folly and though it will fall apart one day, that day might not be soon and even when it comes it will wreak havoc.”

“That’s horrible,” said Ruby quietly, feeling cold despite her cloak. “I don’t understand how something like that could happen…magic is part of us, part of our world…”

 Rumplestiltskin was quiet for a moment. “It is possible that wild magic – your magic – could still work, and that is why you need to wear this.”

 He handed her a leather cuff. 

 “That will prevent you from using magic. You won’t be able to take yours off. I have one for myself and I will put it on once we reach the kingdom. It is a necessary precaution, as I believe they can sense when magic is used in the kingdom, and it is imperative we give them no sign of our approach.”

 Ruby didn’t like the sound of that and she looked at the cuff suspiciously. “I can control the transformations, you know. And how do I get it off?”

 “I can take it off. And even though you can control them in the Enchanted Forest, this is different. We can’t afford to take any chances.”

Reluctantly she slid the cuff on her wrist. “But what about you? How do you get yours off? And why do you need one if all magic is blocked?”

He only answered her last question. “I have reason to believe my magic is strong enough that it will still work, at least partly."

Rumplestiltskin stopped talking, but made no move to continue forward. He seemed lost in thought and they sat in silence, Ruby mulling over what he had told her. She had many questions, but finally she just said, “Is there any way to undo what they’ve begun?”

A pained look flashed over the Dark One’s face. “Yes. At least I think so. But I need to know more.” He shook his head. “Well, enough time sitting here. The Order’s base of power is The Cloisters, once a center for Charter Magic and located outside of the capital. That is where they’ve taken Belle, and that is where we must go.” Shall we?”

Ruby nodded and with a wave of his hand and a cloud of maroon smoke, Rumplestiltskin transported them out of the Enchanted Forest to the kingdom far far away.

They found themselves in a mountain pass with towering snow-capped peaks around them. Not far from where they stood was a gorge with a rushing river at t he bottom and the path they stood on led to a single-arched stone bridge that spanned the ravine. The bridge was a magnificent piece of craftsmanship in white stone, wide enough for three horses to walk abreast.

As Rumplestiltskin put on his own leather cuff he winced and closed his eyes momentarily, but then moved forward, pausing before the bridge.

“This river originates high in the mountains,” he waved a hand in the direction. “It flows down to the sea, forming a border of the kingdom. Further along it widens and flattens and there are a number of bridges crossing it. All of them built with magic many centuries ago, before people forgot.

We have several days of riding before we reach the capital and The Cloisters, time enough to formulate a plan.

Be prepared. You’ll feel we’ve entered the kingdom when we’re halfway across the bridge. What they’ve done with the wards will resonate strongly with anyone from outside, especially someone with magic. It will be…unpleasant.”

They started to walk across the bridge, and Ruby marveled at the beauty of the mountains around them and the might of the river crashing below them. But when they got halfway, she felt the change sharply and suddenly.

It hit her hard, and she felt a severe pain in her stomach and head. There was something wrong, something very wrong, with this part of the world. The desire to transform and seek refuge in the magic was strong, but the magic of the cuff restrained her. She half dismounted, half fell from her horse and stumbled, her vision blurry, to the stone railing and threw up over the side. She threw up until she couldn’t anymore, and then leaned against the stone, grateful for its coldness. 

She realized Rumplestiltskin was behind her, gently rubbing her back and half holding her up, and she leaned into his arms, grateful for the support and human contact. But then she realized who was holding her and jerked away.

An unreadable look flashed over his face, but he turned and remounted his own horse and continued over the bridge without saying anything. Ruby shakily got back on her horse and followed. The pain subsided to a dull ache and the feeling of wrongness persisted, but it was manageable.

As they continued along the path as it curved down through the mountains, Ruby wondered, if it had been that bad for her, and she only had wild magic, how bad had it been for Rumplestiltskin? He rode in front of her, his posture stiff. She felt bad about how she had reacted, and wanted to make amends, but she didn’t know how well inquiries about his feelings would be received.

They rode in silence, and shortly before darkness fell they stopped to make camp. Ruby took care of the horses and Rumplestiltskin gathered firewood for a fire. She watched as he waved his hand over it, grimacing when it hit him that he couldn’t use magic. His hand flickered to his wrist with the cuff, but he gritted his teeth and pulled his hand away.

“Here, let me,” Ruby volunteered, wanting to try to make up for earlier.

“I’m perfectly capable of making a fire without magic, dearie,” he snarled, and she stepped back at the unexpected vehemence in his tone. “I didn’t always have magic, you know.”

“I didn’t mean… I meant, let me take care of dinner. You’ve done enough today. And I’m sorry for how I reacted earlier.”

He regarded her for a moment, his expression stony, but when he spoke his voice had lost the edge. “Very well.”

 As they ate, Ruby took a deep breath and then asked, “How are you doing? I imagine it must be worse for you than for me…”

He looked up, surprised that she would ask about him. “I’ll manage. The importance of rescuing Belle overshadows all else.”

They slowly started to talk about other things, and by the time Ruby went to sleep, (he said he would keep watch) there was a sort of quiet understanding between them.

As she lay down, she looked over at him. He was sitting rigidly by the fire, staring into the flames. It looked as if there was a great sadness in his eyes, and made him seem more human.

 


	4. We Look to You Still

_Belle had been at the Dark Castle for several weeks when she found the sword. She and Rumplestiltskin had come to an uneasy understanding – she would spend her time cleaning the castle and serve tea at 2 every afternoon and he left her alone._

_Belle slowly realized that she almost had free reign in the castle, except for a tower in the West Wing, which was locked. She would clean, but she was also able to explore, and the rooms of the castle were filled with all manner of interesting things._

_One day she found a hall that seemed to be some sort of armory, with suits of armor of all different makes and designs, and a wide range of weapons. She supposed he had collected such things on his travels, for they were surely from all corners of their land, and many were unfamiliar to her. But as she neared the back of the hall, the weapons became more familiar, and among them was a sword._

_Belle had been able to convince her father that she should learn how to fight, but she hadn’t gotten very far before the most recent ogre war broke out and Rumplestiltskin had been called. She paused by the sword rack, looking at the weapons longingly. She had always wanted to be like one of the heroines in the books she loved, riding off and saving the kingdom, and while she had the riding part down, the fighting part not so much._

_She glanced around and, figuring that Rumplestiltskin would never know, picked up the sword. It was of fine craftsmanship and perfectly balanced, a joy to wield. She was working her way through the exercises she knew when Rumplestiltskin’s voice from the doorway cut through her concentration._

_“Nice footwork dearie. For a ballerina maybe.”_

_She spun around to see him leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, watching her, and she dropped the sword in her surprise. His tone was sarcastic, but not entirely mean, and he looked amused._

_Blushing, Belle said quickly, “I’m sorry, I hope you’re not upset that I-“_

_Rumplstiltskin shrugged and cut her off. “No need to apologize, dearie. Knowing how to wield a sword is a valuable skill. Let’s see what you can do, shall we?” And with a puff of smoke, he was holding a sword of his own._

_Unsure of what he was playing at, but hoping to show off her sword-fighting skills, Belle scrambled to pick up her own sword. She was quickly disabused to the idea that she could hold her own in a duel, as Rumplestiltskin quickly disarmed her, sending the sword flying away, and, as if to add insult to injury, tripped her. He stood over her, looking down at her, an unreadable look on his face, and she sat on the floor, looking up at him, displeased at how easily he had bested her._

_With a sudden smile, he offered her his hand to help her up, and said, “So, you want to learn how to sword-fight?”_

_“I do,” she said uncertainly._

_“Well then, pick up the sword. You have a lot to learn.”_

_***_

_Several months before Rumplestiltskin lets Belle go_

_Belle and the Dark One had established a fairly regular routine of sword-fighting practice, several times a week. Over the months Belle had gotten quite good, but she had yet to disarm Rumplestiltskin. She claimed it was because of his magic and he was cheating, and he would laughingly retort back that she just had to keep practicing._

_On one such afternoon they were dueling along the main corridor of the armory, the clang of steel in the air, and they locked swords._

_As each tried to break the stalemate, their eyes met. Belle saw his eyes were not just golden, but more complex, with flecks of green and brown, rather like a cat or a dragon. As their gaze held, an undecipherable emotion flickered in his eyes, but then she felt his stance weaken and she pushed her advantage, managing to send his sword flying for the first time._

_She turned to look at him with a triumphant smile, but he was backing away slowly with a funny look on his face._

_“Well,” he said softly. “I think that’s enough for today.” And he turned and left without another word, leaving his sword on the ground._

_That would be the last time they practiced together, before he let her go. He would always manage to come up with excuses._

Belle was jolted from her memories when one of the black-clad soldiers jerked her horse to a stop. It was time for the midday meal. She was pulled off the horse – her hands were kept tied –and seated by the fire.

The first day of travel Belle had remained stubbornly silent, but as that had not accomplished anything, on the morning of second day she tried to talk to the soldiers next to her, only to be threatened with being gagged if she didn’t stay quiet. But as they paused for lunch, Belle decided she would try to talk to Frollo, to see what was going on.

“Frollo,” she called.

The man was standing away from the group, talking to one of his lieutenants, and he looked over at her. For a moment she didn’t think he would answer her, but then he said “What?” rather distastefully.

“I think you own me an explanation. Where are we going, and why? And who do you work for?”

He cocked his head, studying her, and finally said, “You can ride next to me in the afternoon.”

After the meal, as the soldiers were breaking camp, Belle push her way near to Frollo so he wouldn’t be able to change his mind.

“So, what exactly is going on?” she said as they began moving. She tried to inject a note of authority into her voice, to sit up tall and pretend she wasn’t as powerless as she really was.

“I suppose you won’t let it go, will you?” said Frollo irritatedly.

“I have the right to know,” she retorted.

“From where do you get this right? If you haven’t already realized you’re our captive, you’re not as bright as everyone said you are,” he said scornfully.

Belle rolled her eyes at that. “Alright, so I’m a prisoner. But if we’re just going to be riding all day, wouldn’t it be preferable to pass the time talking, rather than riding in silence?”

Frollo narrowed his eyes as he studied the woman next to him, wondering how much to tell her and weighing the risks. She rode along side him, her hair blowing in the wind, the bright red blood on her cheek standing in strong contrast to her pale skin, her eyes, the color of a stormy sky, meeting his own gaze and challenging it, eyes dark with defiance and anger… she was quite beautiful. He felt an uncomfortable lurch in his stomach and abruptly wrenched his thoughts elsewhere and broke eye contact. Those were not acceptable thoughts for such a high member of the Order to be having. At the end of the day, she might be rather clever and more than a bit pretty, but she was still just a woman.

Her being a woman would play a crucial role in luring the Dark One if their relations where what he believed them to be, but it also meant she wasn’t dangerous. Her powers of seduction wouldn’t get her very far, not among servants of the Order, at least. And so he concluded he might as well begin to tell her of the Order’s vision of the world, because with the brainwashing she had undergone, it would take time to undo what had been done.

“Very well. I and my men serve the Order, which strives to perfect and cleanse the world. In effect, we strive for a world without magic-“

“What!? That’s ridiculous!” interrupted Belle before she could stop herself. “Ours is a world with magic, it’s part of who we are!”

“So you’ve been told. Of course you would think that, given what you’ve been through,” said Frollo, using the same tone of voice one would use to address a willful child.

“But that’s an impossible goal! You can’t get rid of magic-“ Belle began to retort. She was having difficulty expressing how ludicrous what she was hearing was.

Frollo smiled thinly. “Ah, but we can. And we already have in our Kingdom.”

“That’s unnatural! The land will die without out magic-“

“Poor child. What do you know of such matters? Magic is the unnatural force. You do not have magic and neither do I, so where is its place?”

Belle bit back a stinging retort. If she wanted to learn more she would have to be civil. And she had a better chance of escaping or thwarting whatever plans were apparently in place if they underestimated her.

“Ok. But you still use magic,” she said, holding up her wrist with the cuff. “There’s magic in this, isn’t there?”

Frollo made a face. “We must fight fire with fire. There are ancient spells that will block magic and for now we have turned to that for the resurrection of wards. We have effectively created a land without magic, but there is a way to make it permanent.” _And that’s where you come in. Or rather, where the Dark One plays the starring role._

Belle was quiet for a minute. _So all they’ve done is block magic. Maybe it can be undone._ “Alright. Where do I come in to this?”

Frollo smirked at her, a cruel glint in his eye. “All in good time, my dear, all in good time. I think you’ve found out more than enough.” And with that he spurred his horse forward, making it clear discussion time was over.

Belle frowned at his back and spent the rest of the afternoon mulling over what he had told her and what she had read about the distant kingdoms in their world and magic-blocking spells.

That evening, as the campfire burned down into embers, she let herself lapse back into memories of the past and what could have been.

_When the Dark One had let her go, Belle had been half-way back to her father’s lands when she paused. Something didn’t feel right. She felt as if she was leaving home instead of returning to it. From somewhere deep in her memory she remembered reading about curse-breaking and how ancient legend said True Love was the most powerful magic of all, able to counter any curse. Maybe…could it be? Was it love she felt for Rumplestiltskin?_

_She thought for a long while and finally decided that, because she actually wanted to return to the Dark Castle and the Dark One, it might be just be love. For the two years she had been at the castle, it had been just them and she had gotten to know him very well, and he knew her better than anyone else. She knew he had goodness in him, had seen him help those who came to him, even though it was always under the pretense of making a deal, and she refused to believe the darkness had taken him entirely._

_And so she turned her horse around and rode back and marched into the Great Hall._

_“Rumplestiltskin!” she called._

_In a puff of smoke he appeared and froze in the middle of one of his customary hand flourishes when he saw it was her. “Belle? What are you doing here?” His voice was strangled, his words lacking their usual sharp wit._

_She smiled and slowly walked towards him. “I came back.” The moment she saw him again she knew she had made the right choice._

_“I can see that,” he said, recovering slightly. “But…why?” His question was cautious, as if he didn’t dare to hope._

_By then she was standing right in front of him, and reached to stroke his cheek, his rough golden skin warm. He flinched at her touch, but didn’t move away._

_“There’s something I left undone.”_

_And she kissed him. At first he was still and then his mouth twitched under hers and he was kissing her back. But then he pulled away, afraid of the change that was taking place._

_“What’s happening?” he asked, more to himself than to her. “The curse…it’s receding.”_

_“It’s working!” Belle exclaimed joyfully. “It is True Love! I love you, Rumplestiltskin.”_

_“And so it is,” he said softly, wonder in his voice. “And I love you, Belle.”_

_And he kissed her and the curse broke and they lived happily ever after._

But that wasn’t what had happened. Rumplestiltskin had pulled back, fear in his eyes, and but he had channeled that fear into anger. He had refused to believe that she could actually love him and had driven her away. She regretted not trying harder to convince him the love was real, not staying longer.

Shaking her head, she rolled over so that her back was to the fire and tried to fall asleep. As sleep proved elusive, she tried to have faith that she would see him again, that they would be able to be together, but doubt remained.

***

On the morning of the fourth day, as they broke camp, Frollo came over to where she was sitting on her horse, waiting for them to move out.

“We will enter the Kingdom today. You should be prepared – it can be unpleasant at first for those who have spent too much time with magic.” His words were brusque and abrupt and he was gone before she could ask any questions. 

As the morning wore on, a river appeared in the distance, and there was something strange with the land beyond it. Even though they were still far away, Belle sensed a feeling of otherness from the approaching landscape, and it seemed to her that the green of the grassland they were riding through lost its luster on the other side of the river.

“That’s the border of the kingdom, isn’t it?” she asked the soldier who rode next to her, and he nodded.

They continued toward the river and over it. Halfway across the bridge, Belle felt a shooting pain in her stomach and doubled over, gasping. She felt claustrophobic, the feeling of wrongness overwhelming and suffocating, but it only seemed to affect her. The men around her seemed unaffected, and she felt a thrill of fear at what the Order had accomplished.

As they rode on, the pain subsided to a dull feeling of discomfort, but she was shaken by the men’s lack of reaction and the state of the country around her. The land had lost its spark – it was dying, she was sure. She was equally sure that her reaction was the right one to have, and the fact that these men had become so removed from magic – and, indeed, their world – was what was unnatural.

They continued to ride for several days, and passed villages and towns, and watching the people and animals only further reinforced that something was gravely wrong. Several times they passed massive stones that were cracked in half, with marks that looked like runes carved across their fronts, sometimes with dark ugly stains splashed across them, and when they did the feeling of wrongness became painful. Try as she might, she could get no more information out of Frollo.

Finally on the eighth day a city appeared on the horizon, and the sea beyond it. There was the smell of salt water in the air, and seagulls wheeled in the distance. As they rode closer, Belle saw a causeway led out from the city to an island off the shore with a large castle on it.

“That is the Capitol,” said Frollo, reining his horse in to ride alongside her. “And beyond it is the Cloisters. When the tides are high it is a virtual island.”

They rode through the city – the first place that truly felt alive since they had entered the Kingdom – and out to the castle. It was an impressive structure, and would be easy to defend and hard to attack. In the courtyard the group dismounted and Frollo went to speak with important-looking men off to one side and Belle was left standing in the middle while activity went on around her.

She had time to look around and study the thick, high walls – they had ridden through an arch to enter the courtyard and she had seen just how thick they were – and the foreboding turrets of the castle towering in front of her before Frollo came back over to her and cut the ropes that tied her hands.

“You have free reign of the castle and grounds,” he said. “You’ll have a room and can take meals in the refractory. I would not advise trying to escape though. You will be watched. When we want you we will let you know.”

He turned to leave, but then turned back and said curtly, “Hold out your arm.” When she did so, he removed the leather cuff, gave her a snide smile that was more of sneer, and turned away without a word, leaving Belle standing rubbing her wrist, sure only that she would never call on Rumplestiltskin while she was there. 

A maid showed Belle her room and where she could get food, and then Belle was on her own. Not hungry, she decided to explore and see how far she could get. Maybe the castle had a library. The late afternoon found her standing on the castle wall, looking out at the sea, and realizing that escaping might not be an option.

Lost in thought, she didn’t realize someone was approaching her until the woman was quite close.

“You’re the new prisoner, aren’t you?” she asked and Belle jumped and spun around.

“I suppose I am. Who you are?”

The other woman was tall and dark skinned and she had thick black hair. Her clothes were brightly colored and her bright green eyes glinted with amusement at Belle’s surprise.

“I’m Esmerelda. Where do you come from?” Her voice was soft and accented and musical, and she was the first person Belle had seen since arriving in the Kingdom who seemed not to have lost the life spark.

“The Enchanted Forest. And my name is Belle.”

“Ah, so you’re far from home. This is my home, or it was. I am a Gypsy, and my people have called this land home for hundreds of years, although we move with the winds from fair to town to sea, and never stay in one place too long. But as the Order stepped up its campaign against magic, my people became targets. We don’t exactly fit in with their nice orderly idea of society,” she finished wirily.

Belle nodded. “I have read of your people. You have a type of wild magic, yes? A kinship with animals, especially horses, and rare musical and craftsmanship abilities, I think?”

“Your books informed you correctly," Esmerelda said, laughing softly. "A long time ago Charter Magic and our wild magic was the life blood of this land and it was a thriving, joyful place, but you’ve seen what they’ve done to the Charter Stones and my people haven’t held up much better.” Her voice had hardened. 

“Those were the stones we passed,” said Belle, remembering and shivering, even though the evening was warm. "And the stains... they were blood, weren't they? The sacrifice of a Charter Mages is the only way to break a stone, right?"

Esmerelda nodded grimly. "Your books serve you well. It's an ugly road they've started down, and the spells they use are ones that should have been forgotten."

Belle shook her head. "Can I ask why they’re keeping you here?” 

Esmerelda sighed and looked out over the water. “My people tend to reject organization and governing, but we have a sort of loose confederacy, and my father was the last king. The royal blood and strong wild magic that ran in his veins runs in mine, and I would be the rightful leader of my people. We’ve tried to organize a Resistance to the Order, but when they captured me they said they would let my people be if I stayed in the Cloisters and promised brutal reprisals should I try to escape. 

But they haven’t kept their word. And the wards against magic are hurting my people as much as outright fighting. Our magic still works, but the land is dying, and our strength with it.

What brings you here?”

Belle bit her lip, unsure how to explain. “I don’t really know, but I think it is because of my connection with Rumplestiltskin. Perhaps you’ve heard of him?”

Esmerelda nodded. “Aye. The Dark One’s reputation has reached us here. Now he would be a formidable ally to have in the fight against the Order!”

Belle was quiet. If anyone could take down the Order, it would be Rumplestiltskin, but something nefarious was going on, and she wasn’t going to be the one to pull him into it, especially if there was the chance he would be unable to use magic.

“Anyway, I’ve been here long enough to think about possible escapes,” Esmerelda continued.

“Escape? I’m all for it, but what of the reprisals?” Belle cocked her head as she studied the other woman.

Esmerelda laughed harshly. “My people are dying with the land, as am I. Gypsies don’t do well inside stone walls. They would force us to resettle in cities and towns, and we would die as surely as if they sent troops after us. We value our freedom to greatly to submit to anyone, and I think the time has come for a final stand. If this is to be the end, we would rather go down fighting then let them slowly wipe us out.

But with you here, if we were to work together, escape might just be possible. What do you say?” Esmerelda held out a hand.

Belle grinned, the other woman’s fierceness and enthusiasm contagious, and reached to shake hands. “You can count on me. Let's get out of here.”

 

 


	5. Broken Stones & A Broken Land

Rumplestiltskin sat awake through the night, as the fire died and the stars came and went, lost in his thoughts. The prospect of trying to find Belle without magic was truly daunting and he was scared, a feeling he hadn’t felt in many years. He thought about how courage meant being afraid and facing one’s fears anyways, but as the Dark One, without mortality, he had almost forgotten that he had never been very good at being brave.

As the Dark One he had seen people come and go, kings rise and fall, and had become detached. The triumphs and trials of men were short-lived – human life flared and was gone – next to his immortality, and now he wondered if there was something beautiful in that, in a limited time on earth. It made everything matter more.

 He stood up to stretch. It wouldn’t do to get too philosophical. The thing to focus on was rescuing Belle. She had reminded him that he had once been a man, that humanity's affairs had once included him, and that some things were worth risking everything for. He thought how the heroes of the great epics were remembered as such because they looked death in the face and laughed. He wasn't sure if he could do that, but he would try.

As light appeared over the horizon, he walked over to the river that flowed by their camp, to splash cold water on his face and try to drive away such thoughts. From his pocket he pulled out another leather cuff, similar in appearance to the one he already wore but for a different purpose. This one held a masking charm, one that would change his appearance to outside eyes. He slipped it over his other wrist, wincing and closing his eyes as he pushed back the curse. It was already furious at the magic blocking cuff and at magic inhibiting spells in the kingdom, and it was raging to try its strength against the wards.

Rumplestiltskin knew the Dark Curse was powerful enough that his magic would still work, at least partly – it was older and stronger than any spell the Order could have found – but he wasn’t going to risk alerting them to the fact that he was near. He wasn’t sure how his magic would be affected, and until Belle was safe, he was unwilling to risk anything. He tried to reason with the curse – better to wait, to get closer to the Cloisters, so that revenge against the Order, for taking Belle and for trying to block magic, could be complete and utter – and eventually he pushed it back so it was no more than an angry murmur and persistent ache in the back of his head.

He glanced in the river and frowned at his reflection. The man who looked back at him was weak and unimposing, how he had looked before the curse. It was strange to see that face again, a face he hadn’t seen for hundreds of years, and he didn’t welcome the reminder of his past. As if to add insult to injury, he had also brought a change of clothes, peasant clothes, and as he put them on his displeasure grew. He had become attached to the wardrobe and air of intimidation that went along with being the Dark One, and now, even though he retained the strength and everything else that went along with the curse, he wasn’t likely to intimidate anyone. Shaking his head, he returned to the camp revive the dying embers of the fire and put water on to boil. 

Ruby woke up as he was cooking breakfast. He saw her almost ask about his altered appearance but then change her mind, for which he was grateful as he was in a foul mood and had a horrible headache. But, as they were supposed to be partners in their undertaking, he forced himself to say something as they broke camp and saddled up. He was used to working alone and working with someone else would take some getting used to.

“It’s another magic cuff,” he said, raising his wrist. “I figured sightings of Rumplestiltskin would travel quickly back to the Cloisters.”

“That was smart,” said Ruby, looking surprised that he chose to initiate a conversation. She hesitated, and then asked, “Is this what you looked like before...?”

For a moment he was tempted to snarl back that that was none of her business, but then he took a deep breath and said civilly, “Yes. Before the curse. It changed a lot of things. I had almost forgotten what I looked like. It’s been… quite a while.”

“And under the curse, you’re immortal, aren’t you?” she asked. 

Rumplestiltskin looked at her quickly, trying to ascertain her motives. Except for Belle, anyone who had asked about the curse had done so to try to figure out how to steal his power. The curse hissed that she was trying to undermine him, but he only saw curiosity in the woman next to him, and so he nodded.

They fell into a conversation of sorts as they mounted up and started the day’s journey. Both were pleasantly surprised that they could have a decent conversation, and the day passed more quickly than it might have otherwise.

It was late afternoon when they neared their first broken charter stone. As the road drew level with it the sense of wrongness from the magic-blocking wards was magnified and the pain and horror that both had felt when they crossed into the kingdom was amplified. 

It was worse to be so close to a broken stone, and the horses, as animals from the Enchanted Forrest, felt it too. Rumplestiltskin’s horse reared and shied, and as its rider was in no condition to control it, dumped him on the ground. Ruby, overcoming her own nausea and getting her mount under control, dismounted and ran to his side.

He sat up, his one hand on his wrist that had the magic-blocking cuff, his jaw clenched and his eyes closed. Ruby remembered how he said he was the only one who could take off the cuff and she realized that it was only through willpower that he was refraining from taking it off and using magic. At that moment she fully appreciated how much he cared about Belle.

She tentatively kneeled beside him and put a hand on his arm and asked, “Are you alright?”

He jumped at her touch, but nodded, opening his eyes. “I’ll be ok,” he said raggedly, still holding his wrist. “In the future perhaps it’s best if we take a wider berth around the stones.” 

They straightened up and caught their horses, but before they continued onwards, Rumplestiltskin turned to take a last look at the stone.

“In a whole stone, the runes move across its surface,” he said, almost to himself. “The stone is imbued with magic, and can be a conduit for the local mage to do more powerful spells.”

Ruby pulled her cloak tighter. There was a foreboding air around the stone, one of death. She forced herself to ask, “The dark patch, is it…?”

“It’s blood. The blood of a charter mage, unwillingly sacrificed.” His face hardened, the anger of the Dark One clearly visible despite the cloaking spell, and Ruby shivered at the depth of rage there.

“Let us go. We have spent enough time here,” Rumplestiltskin said abruptly, and they continued onward.

For several more days they rode, making sure to keep a distance between them and the other broken charter stones they passed. They passed through towns and villages, but were hardly given a second glance. Their disguise as simple travelers held. 

As Rumplestiltskin and Ruby traveled together, they formed a camaraderie of sorts and grew to, if not enjoy, at least tolerate, the other's company. Riding together all day forced them to get to know each-other, at least somewhat, and both were surprised with the depth in the other.

***

As the sun set on the fifth day, they neared the Capitol and Rumplestiltskin reigned in his horse as they approached the city gates, taking a deep breath. To be so close to the Cloisters and the evil that was there, to be so close to Belle… He hated the idea of going in without magic, and his hand drifted to his wrist. It was so tempting… _But no,_ he told himself forcefully. _There is no room for error. No magic until we find her._

Ruby guessed at his internal struggle, and said quietly, “We’ll get her back. Whether we can use magic or not, we’ll figure out a way.”           

“We’ll stay here for the night,” Rumplestiltskin said eventually, his voice quiet and his eyes not meeting hers. “To get to the Cloisters we go through the city, to the ocean, where there’s a causeway leading out to the island. During high tide it’s impenetrable, so we will have to plan accordingly. We cannot afford to make a mistake.”

“Are you sure we won’t be recognized?” Ruby asked, not liking the idea of being confined in a city with thick walls. She much preferred the open sky.

“Yes. They’ll have eyes out for the Dark One, but we should be able to slip by. We’re a couple of travelers, here to do research at the university.” 

Both were reluctant to continue, but they knew they couldn’t wait outside the city-gates for too long or else they would raise suspicions. It was getting dark as they dismounted and passed through the city-gates, leading their horses. Rumplestiltskin was correct; the city guards hardly noticed them.

“Do you know the city at all?” hissed Ruby as they made their way through the twisting streets, looking for a place to spend the night. 

“Things change in one hundred years,” he snapped back.

Ruby supposed them being lost couldn’t hurt their cover story, but she didn’t like the narrow streets and looming buildings. And her senses, already heightened from her wild magic, were on edge and picked up the sound of someone following them. Whoever it was was walking along the rooftops, keeping pace with them. 

“Rumplestiltskin,” she murmured. “There’s someone-“

“I know,” he muttered back, just as quietly. “But let’s let him make the first move. We’ll see what he wants soon enough.”

As if the man had heard them, he agilely jumped down from the roof behind them.

Rumplestiltskin spun around, his hand on his sword hilt, and snarled, “What do you want, Gypsy?”

The man had dark skin and brightly-colored clothes and even though he raised his hands, there was a fearlessness in his eyes and a trace of amusement on his face. It took Ruby a moment to realize there was something different about him than the other people they had seen in the kingdom, something more alive.

“Easy, easy. The city guard does not take kindly to fighting in the streets,” he said, a musical lilt to his voice. “I could ask what two denizens of the Enchanted Forest are doing so far from home.”

Rumplestiltskin started forward, sword half-drawn, but Ruby grabbed his arm.

“Wait," she said to him, and to the man she asked, "How do you know where we’re from?”  

“We all have our talents,” said the man, his eyes dancing.

“Why were you following us?” snapped Rumplestiltskin, shaking off her hand, a dangerous look on his face. 

“Because I think our interests align. But-“ he held up a hand to keep them quiet. “The streets are not a safe place for talking. The Order has ears everywhere. I know somewhere we can go, where you can spend the night, that is more secure.”

“Why should we trust you?” Rumplestiltskin asked, his hand still on his sword.

“You knew of my people,” the man said, very quietly. “You probably also know, or can guess, how things stand for us at the moment. But please, come with me, it is not a good idea to be out after curfew.”

The man locked eyes with Rumplestiltskin, his earnest green eyes meeting with the other’s dark golden ones, and a sort of understanding passed between them. 

“Very well then,” said Rumplestiltskin at last. 

“Are you sure?” Ruby whispered, as they started to follow the man.

“Yes. You can tell there’s something different about him, can’t you?” he asked, and when she nodded, he continued, “The gypsies have a sort of wild magic, and so the Order is no doubt after them as well. As you can see with him, they still have the life spark that most of the people here have lost, but they won’t last much longer though if the Order continues to block the land’s ties with magic.”

They walked in silence, and then Rumplestiltskin called, “What should we call you?”

“They call me Ferka,” said their guide without turning. 

“’Ferka’… doesn’t that mean-“ Rumplestiltskin started to say.

“Yes,” Ferka interrupted, a bitterness in his voice. “In Romani, the language of my people, it means ‘free,’ which is painfully ironic given the current circumstances. My people need freedom like a bird needs the sky, and without it we are not faring well.”

They walked on in silence until Ferka stopped them in front of a tavern. “This is a gypsy tavern. You won’t find Order members nearby, only my people. You can spend the night and your horses can be stabled here.” He nodded at the stable boy who had come out to see if they would be staying. “Let’s go in. Best not to linger on the streets.”

He led them inside and to a back room. “Sit. I’ll be right back.”

Rumplestiltskin and Ruby sat, but they stayed alert and kept their weapons loose.

 “What do you think is going on?” asked Ruby quietly.

“I’m not sure. I think we’re on the same side though, and so it will be worth it to see what they have to say,” Rumplestiltskin answered. “Maybe they know something of the Cloisters and can be of some help.” _We could use allies like them, if we’re to get to Belle without magic_ , he thought, but he kept that thought to himself.

 Ferka returned with another man and a women, and they brought with them bread and cheese and sausages and flagons of beer.  

“Here,” said the woman. “You have come a long way, and we have much to discuss before the morning.” She sat at the table across from them, the two men sitting on either side of her.

 “So tell us,” said Rumplestiltskin. “What exactly is going on? Why the interest in two travelers?”

“Because you’re not just two travelers, are you?,” asked the woman. She studied them, and then, after a glance at her two companions, said softly, “I believe we have a common objective. But first, we need to talk about Belle.”

 

 


	6. Dark Was The Night

“We need to talk about Belle.”

The words hung in the air, and then Rumplestiltskin leapt to his feet, so abruptly that his chair was knocked over, and he drew his sword.

“What do you know about Belle?” he snarled, his face contorted with anger. Fury surged through him and the curse, which never liked compromise or waiting, screamed at him to force them to tell him what they knew and then destroy them, destroy the city, destroy the fools who thought they could get rid of magic. 

The Gypsies stood as well, partly drawing their own swords, and Ruby quickly stepped in front of Rumplestiltskin, hands on his chest to try to push him back. His eyes were dark with anger and she could see he wasn’t himself.

“Stand down,” she hissed. “You said they were our allies-“ But he shoved her aside and took a step forward.

“What do you know?” Rumplestiltskin demanded again.

The woman met his eyes, unafraid. “You should listen to your friend, Rumplestiltskin. We are on the same side.”

Surprise vied with anger on his face. “How do you know who I am?“

“You just confirmed it. Please, do sit. We face a great evil, and I believe that only through working together can we hope to counter it.”

“I want you to tell me how you know Belle,” growled Rumplestiltskin, lowering his sword but not sheathing it or sitting. 

Ruby got up from the floor, rubbing her elbow, and sat and said to Esmerelda, “We will listen to what you have to say. I apologize for my companion.” And she shot a glare at Rumplestiltskin. “Why don’t you sit? That way maybe we can have a civilized conversation and actually come up with a plan to rescue Belle and get out of this god-forsaken land.”

Rumplestiltskin glared back at her for a moment, and then reluctantly sat. 

The Gypsies sat as well, and the woman started to speak. “My name is Esmerelda. I am the leader of the Gypsies. Ferka tells me you already know something of our people, and so as you can probably guess why my people have become a target for the Order. We have always existed apart from the normal folk and they won’t accept that. We ‘go with the wind,’ so to speak, traveling from fair to town to sea, but they would force us to settle in towns. That freedom is our life blood. Without it we don’t fare too well. 

We tried to organize a Resistance movement, but I was captured several years back. They imprisoned me in the Cloisters, and told me if I behaved they wouldn’t go after my people. But they lied, and now I find a grim state of affairs.”

“You were at the Cloisters?!” Rumplestiltskin interrupted, his heart beating quickly, and they all watched him warily wondering if he was going to jump up again, but he stayed seated. “Did you see Belle?”

“Yes,” Esmerelda said, but she seemed hesitant to continue. “I… I did. I got to know her as we planned an escape.”

“What happened?” Rumplestiltskin interjected harshly, his eyes glinting dangerously. “You’re here, so it was at least partially successful.” His hand slipped to his wrist with the magic cuff, and he closed his eyes briefly as fought back the urge to take it off. 

Esmerelda continued to tell her story, but didn’t meet their eyes. “We had a plan, but we were betrayed. Before we attempted it, Belle made me promise to keep going, not matter what. She was certain they wouldn’t hurt her, because she said they needed her… She said they needed her alive to act as bait for the Dark One.” Her voice was barely above a whisper as she finished and looked up at them.

“You left her there?” Rumplestiltskin’s voice was hot with anger. “How could you, knowing what they’re capable of-“

“It wasn’t as much of a choice as it seems,” Esmerelda cut him off. “But I regret it and I am ashamed. And that is why we have been formulating a plan to return and have been on the lookout for you. Belle said there was a chance you would come.”

“So you have a plan?” asked Rumplestiltskin. 

“It’s not a good one,” muttered the other man before Esmerelda could answer.

“Enough, Barsali,” said Ferka. “We don’t know if there is another way.”

“This is Barsali, my consort. We are the leaders of the Gypsy Confederation. You’ve already met Ferka, my brother,” said Esmerelda.

“If we’re doing introductions, I’m Ruby and, as you’ve guessed, this is Rumplestiltskin. So what is this plan?” asked Ruby.

“There… there is a man at the Cloisters. He is not one of the Order-“ began Esmerelda.

“He might as well be,” snapped Barsali. “I don’t know how you think you can trust him, not after what happened.”

Esmerelda sighed. “He is a young man and he has lived his whole life in the Cloisters. His mother was a Gypsy who was killed by Frollo. The reason given was an attempted assassination, but it is also known that Frollo likes killing and to him Gypsy life has no value. But then it was discovered there was a baby, and even Frollo shied at having such innocent blood on his hands. So he took the baby to the Cloisters and raised the boy, teaching him a warped view of the world and to hate his Gypsy blood and to fear magic. It was Frollo who named the child. Quasimodo.”

Rumplestiltskin frowned. “Doesn’t that mean-“

“Yes. ‘Half-formed.’ It is a cruel name, but no one ever said Frollo was kind. Quasimodo is a hunchback. His whole world is within the Cloisters. He’s a sort of servant, but his heart is a good one-“

“How can you say that after his betrayal?” snarled Barsali.

“It was not his fault,” countered Esmerelda. “Can you really place the blame at his feet, when he knows nothing else? He has been brainwashed by Frollo and lives in terror of displeasing his master. Since the botched escape attempt he has seen the error of his ways.”

“How can you know that?” asked Ruby.

“He has been in contact with me,” said Esmerelda. “The wild magic in his blood allows him to form bonds with animals, and he has befriended the birds that call the belfry home. They happily carry messages for him.” 

“And you’re sure the letters are from him?” asked Rumplestiltskin.

“Yes,” said Esmerelda, shooting Barsali a glance. “Barsali is convinced he is untrustworthy-“

“You almost died,” snapped Barsali. “If they had caught you, they would have killed you.”

“But they didn’t,” said Esmerelda softly, putting her hand on his leg, and they exchanged a look that showed the depth of their feelings for each-other.

“So,” said Ferka, continuing. “We have a contact within the Cloisters. It’s not a definite thing, but Esmerelda is sure, and it’s the best lead we have. From Quasimodo we have heard that Belle is unhurt but confined to her room and we have confirmed that they want her to lure you there.” He nodded at Rumplestiltskin.  
“If the letters are to be believed, Qasimodo has… seen the error of his ways and wishes to make amends. If he can be trusted, we have our way in.”

“I don’t know why we need to rely on the blood traitor when the Dark One is sitting in front of us,” said Barsali testily. “Surely the Dark One’s powers are stronger than anything the Order can manage.”

“It’s not that simple,” said Rumplestiltskin. “While I believe my magic might work, I also believe they will be able to sense the use of any magic within the Kingdom and I am not sure how my magic will be affected. So if there’s a chance it will put Belle in greater danger or that it will not work as I am used to, it is not an option until she is safe. So what is this plan of dubious merit?”

Esmerelda nodded. “We thought we might have to plan a rescue without magic. And that is where Quasimodo is vital. The Cloisters are surrounded by tall thick walls and the sea. The only land is the causeway, which is only uncovered during low tide, and I don’t like our chances if we were to ride up to the main entrance without magic. So that leaves an approach by water at night. 

There is a small gate at the rear of the Cloisters. It was used by the Charter Mages in bygone days for direct access to the ocean – their research included talking to whales and seeing how salt water amplifies magical powers, among other things. Today it is unused and locked, but that is where Quasimodo comes in.”

“Why can’t we just pick the lock or something like that? Surely we can get in without relying on this man,” said Ruby. 

“Because it is a magical lock,” said Ferka, with a twisted smile on his face. “Even as they try to tear it from the land, the Order still relies on magic. There are two doors –the inner gate and outer gate, with a small passage between them that goes through the wall – and both are locked magically. If one has the key, it is simple, as all one has to do is wave the key over the keyhole and the door opens, but without the key and without magic there would be no way of getting in.

Quasimodo would obtain the key. He has free run in the Cloisters and can go wherever he pleases without drawing attention to himself. He assures us it would be easy for him to get the key.”

“How do we know we wouldn’t be walking into an ambush?” asked Rumplestiltskin.

“We don’t,” admitted Esmerelda. “But if he is reliable, as I believe him to be, he would let us in and provide us with the key to Belle’s cell.”

“Gods help us. That really is an awful plan,” said Rumplestiltskin, but his voice lacked venom. “And I speak as someone who’s had to deal with the heroic types in the Enchanted Forest. ” 

“It is atrocious,” spat Barsali. “And it is just like their escape attempt, which also involved Quasimodo obtaining the keys and sending messenger birds and ended with him telling Frollo of the plans.” 

“I suppose…even if we face an ambush we would be inside the walls of the Cloisters…,” Rumplestiltskin mused, thinking things over. “Alright. “ He sighed, and then continued. “We will go through with this plan, but when you inform Quasimodo do not tell him of Ruby or myself. Just tell him that the Gypsies will attempt to rescue Belle. 

Then, if we do face soldiers, I will hold them off. And because they won’t be expecting me, even if I do use magic we will have the element of surprise on our side, which should give you enough time to get to Belle. 

But… if something delays me, will you promise me you will get Belle to safety?” he asked, turning to face Ruby, an unreadable emotion on his face.

“Yes,” she said solemnly, thinking how human he seemed in that moment. “I promise. If it comes down to it, I will make sure she gets out.”

Rumplestiltskin nodded, and looked back at the Gypsies. “So, what do we have to do to set this plan in motion?”

“I’ll write to Quasimodo right away,” said Esmerelda. “Tomorrow night, or tonight, rather, as it’s already quite late, we will take a rowboat out to the Cloisters, to the rear gate. One of our men will take us, and we will pose as fishermen pulling in the night haul. At the agreed upon hour, Quasimodo will meet us let us in. And we’ll see what happens from there.

I and Ferka will go with you, to offer whatever help we can, as we owe Belle a great debt and have a score to settle with the Order. No, Barsali, you must stay here. If something happens to me our people need a leader. 

But there is nothing more to do tonight. You two should rest. You’ve traveled a long ways and we’ll have a big night ahead of us. You can stay here, we’ll show you to your rooms.”

Rumplestiltskin looked like he wanted to say something more, but in the end he just nodded and quietly followed Esmerelda as led them up several flights of stairs and showed him and Ruby to the rooms they would be staying in. 

“Here you are. Sleep as much as you want and when you wake you can come downstairs for food and we’ll fine-tune the plan.”

Rumplesitltskin stayed quiet throughout and Ruby looked at him curiously as Esmerelda went back downstairs, wondering what his take on everything was, but he just bid her good night and went into his room, leaving her standing on the landing and wondering what she had gotten herself into.

Shrugging, she went into her room and found it to be comfortably furnished and it hit her how tired she was. It would be nice to sleep in a real bed after almost a week in the saddle and sleeping on the ground. Before she fell asleep she realized they didn't have a way out, but by then she was already drifting off to sleep and she did not wake until the sun was high in the sky. 

Ruby woke and washed and figured she might as well head down to see if she could find out more details about the crazy escape plan they would be carrying out. But she paused on the landing and knocked on Rumplestiltskin’s door. She wanted to touch base with him and to make sure he thought there was a chance they could pull it off.

She knocked and heard a quiet “Come in” and so she entered. He was standing by the window and had taken off the appearance-altering cuff and resumed his old wardrobe. As he turned to acknowledge her, she thought how he very much looked the part of the Dark One, and it was only because she had gotten to know his human side that she continued into the room.

“Good morning,” she said. “You look like the Dark One again. Hoping to intimidate the Cloister folks into backing down?”

The hint of a smile flickered over his face and then was gone. “If only it would be that simple. The curse does not like the magic-inhibitors, and it will only get angrier as we approach the Cloisters, where the magic-blocking wards are based. It will be hard enough to not use magic without looking like an idiot on top of everything else.”

Ruby nodded. “Do you think we have a chance? Do you trust them?”

“I do,” said Rumplestiltskin. “The Gypsies have no friend in the Order. And if they catch Esmerelda again, they will kill her. She shows great courage in returning. And without using magic, we need their inside connection.”

“If he’s trustworthy…”

“Aye. We shall see. But even if he is not, I am confident my magic will work well enough. But you must promise me you will get Belle out.”

“Of course. But hopefully it won’t come to that. And anyways, how will we get out?”

Rumplestiltskin looked away. “I will use magic to get the four of you out, but I will not be leaving with you. I must undo what they’ve done.”

“Will you meet us somewhere then?” asked Ruby, not understanding what he was getting at.

“No, not in this lifetime,” he answered, his voice barely above a whisper, and sadness in his eyes. “I won’t be leaving, but you have to promise to make sure Belle does.”

“No,” said Ruby, refusing to accept what he was saying. “Surely in all your studying and learning, there’s another way.”

“No,” he said. “Unless I am wrong, and I very rarely am, there is only one way for them to have done what they did, and there is only one way to undo it. And undo it I must. That is my role to play in this. Yours is to ensure our rescue mission is successful. Shall we go downstairs and fine-tune the plan?” His tone and voice told her there was nothing more to discuss.

“I… I suppose so. I really wish there was another way though.” And she really did. Ruby wasn’t sure what to say, but she felt she had gotten to know him on their journey and leaving him would be very hard.

Rumplestiltskin shrugged. “It is what it is.” 

And with a heavy heart, Ruby followed him downstairs to confer with the Gypsies. 

They were greeted with food and Ferka showed them a blueprint of the Cloisters and they traced the path they would take if everything went well.

Rumplestiltskin nodded. “And there is something I would ask of the three of you, should it be possible. The spells they have used to break the Charter Stones and block magic are ancient and very few know of them. They had almost been forgotten. I believe they learned of the rituals from a certain book. The book is called Blood Magic and is dangerous, as it is infused with a type of the magic it describes. It has a mind of its own and can corrupt readers. Only ten copies were ever made, centuries ago, eight of which have been destroyed because of the danger of the magic inside. One copy is in my library. And I believe the Order has the final copy.

If all goes well, I will get the key from Quasimodo and rescue Belle. I would ask the three of you to find the Order’s copy of the book. It should be given to Belle and she can take it to the library of the Dark Castle, which has protection spells in place so that no one can remove it.”

Ruby, Ferka, and Esmerelda assured Rumplestiltskin they would find the book, perhaps with Quasimodo’s help. 

They impatiently waited for darkness to fall and the afternoon was spent fidgeting and sharpening weapons and reviewing the details of the plan that they all already knew.

Finally it was night, and they set out through the city’s winding streets, Rumplestiltskin thoroughly cloaked so he wouldn’t give them away. The Gypsy boatman was waiting for them in a dark corner of the harbor, and they piled into a boat that seemed too small. The boatman cast off, rowing with muffled oar, and they took a long route to get to the Cloisters, to try to avoid any lights, and soon the dark mass of the Cloisters came into view, looming forebodingly and etched into silhouette by the partial moonlight. 

The Gypsies had told Rumplestiltskin and Ruby that there were soldiers posted on watch on the Cloister walls, but that if they were quiet and stuck to the shadows they would likely avoid detection. The water and thick walls lulled the guards into a false sense of security. Soon they reached the small strip of land by the back of the Cloisters and very slowly climbed out of the boat, trying to make as little noise as possible, and stood huddled by the wall, trying to stay in the shadows. They helped push the boat back into the water and the boatman left, not having said a word the entire time.

Esmerelda looked at the moon to gauge the time, and whispered, “He should be here any minute.” 

They stood in silence, shivering, damp from the boat ride and chilled by the cold wind, each with their own thoughts. Rumplestiltskin leaned against he wall, concentrating on pushing back the curse; it was much worse to be so close. Ruby felt an eagerness; she was ready for a fight and to rescue her friend. Esmerelda and Ferka likewise were ready for a fight and to even the score with the Order that had caused their people so much harm. And Gypsies never forgot a debt, and they owed Belle a great one. They all kept a hand on their weapons and tried not to think about the fact the little strip of land would be a poor place to make a final stand. 

Finally, after what felt like an age but actually hadn’t been very long at all, the gate creaked open. They all jumped, and hoped that the sound would be lost in the sounds of the ocean.

“Esmerelda?” a quiet voice called. 

“Quasimodo, is that you?” she replied, moving forward. 

“You came! You trusted me. I cannot tell you how much that means. Come in,” said the man, and he pushed open the door just enough so that they could slip through. 

He was cloaked and hooded, but the lantern he carried cast enough light that they could see he was a hunchback, as Esmerelda had told them. 

They crowded through the gate, into the archway under the wall, and Quasimodo closed the outer gate, blocking out all light except that from his lantern. Moving past them he moved to the inner gate and unlocked it.

He slipped out, and whispered, “It’s all clear, you can come out.”

Very hesitantly, they left the passageway, ready to draw their swords or dodge arrows, but as they emerged into a small courtyard, they found it to be empty and Quasimodo to be trustworthy.

“It’s ok, no one comes back here,” he said softly. “Esmerelda, I am so sorry-“

“Now is not the time,” she interrupted him. “If you help us with what we need, all will be forgiven.”

“I am ever so grateful,” he said. “Now, if you’ll follow me…”

And so they did. He led them into the main building, a big stone castle-like building, and through small corridors and up some stairs until they came out to a huge hall, with columns and a towering ceiling and intricate mosaic floors and what would be beautiful stained glass windows in the day time. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling and suits of armor stood between the columns. A number of impressive wood doors led out from the hall, and a large staircase dominated one end.

“This is the main hall,” Quasimodo murmured and stopped, turning to face them. “You seek Belle. If you go up the staircase and continue upward, always turning left, you will eventually reach her. She is in the tower.” He reached into a pocket and pulled out a key. “This is for her room. She is at the very top.”

Rumplestiltskin took the key, fighting to control the curse and to resist from using magic. Charter magic had at one point connected all life in the Kingdom, the stones helping mages to channel it, and in the moving runes that flowed across the stones’ surfaces, the stones themselves were imbued with life. To stand in what had been a center of magical learning and home to the most powerful charter stones in the kingdom, almost all of which were now broken, was painful and Rumplestiltskin had to struggle to think straight. 

When Ruby spoke, it was as if she was far away. “Alright then. So far so good. So we’ll go look for that book, and Rumplestiltskin, you’ll go to rescue Belle?”

“Yes,” said Rumplestiltskin, his voice hoarse, pulling himself back to the present. “Yes. Let’s hope the element of surprise stays on our side. If all goes well, we can meet back in the main hall by the staircase. Good luck.”

And with that he turned and started up the stairs. The curse gave him unnatural strength, and so he wasn’t out of breath when he reached the top of the tower, even though it was quite high. Standing in front of the door, he took a deep breath, and put the key in the lock. It turned easily and he pushed open the door.

Belle was standing by the window, looking out, but she turned as she heard the door open and froze when she saw who it was.

“Rumplestiltskin,” she whispered. “You came.”

“Oh, Belle,” he breathed. “Of course I did.”


	7. Of Men and Monsters

Moonlight from the window and the torches burning in the room put the scene into sharp relief, and they were both still for a moment, regarding the other. It seemed as if it had been years since they had last seen each other, and the suddenness of the reunion caused both to freeze, not quite believing the other was so near. 

Rumplestiltskin offhandedly noted that the clothes Belle was wearing – the breaches and the leather – complimented her very well and made her look the part of someone who slayed dragons and completed quests, which he supposed was the look she was going for. Her hair was in a messy side braid, and it framed her face quite well. Her eyes were the brilliant blue he remembered, but the hardness as she looked up to see who was at the door was new. There was fire in her gaze and she looked ready for a fight. But as she looked at him something softened, and he saw the same look as when she had returned the first time. 

He also realized the curse had gone quiet, for the first time since they had entered the kingdom and he had put on the magic inhibiting cuff. Perhaps just being close to Belle was enough to push it back.

Belle looked at Rumplestiltskin standing in the doorway, and felt her heart surge in her chest. He looked the same as always, fierce and formidable, and she had always loved his wardrobe – tall boots, leather pants, the high-collared dragonskin coat. His golden eyes had always reminded her of a dragon, especially how they changed color with his emotions. When he had burst in, his eyes had been dark and his face hard with anger and fear, but now, as they stood looking at each other, some of the anger left and was replaced with something else.

“Belle,” he said again hoarsely, as if to try to reassure himself she was actually there.

“Rumple,” she murmured, and that familiar name broke through whatever spell had frozen them in place.

With a few quick steps he was in front of her. She reached out to stroke his face and felt the rough golden skin under her fingers and realized it was the first time she had touched him except for the brief moment at the Dark Castle.

They stood together for a moment, and then he took her face in his hands and he was kissing her. The kiss was hard and demanding, as if to make up for moments lost and reticent of the knowledge the future was uncertain. He pushed her against the wall and she made no move to stop him. Her arms were around his neck and his knee was between her legs and he wanted her right there. The kisses continued to be fierce and bruising, an unleashing of pent-up passion and fear and anger. 

Only when he slipped his hand under her shirt did he mentally reproach himself and broke the kiss but she grabbed his coat to prevent him stepping away. They stood pressed together, foreheads almost touching, both breathing hard, the love and passion unmistakable in both their faces, neither wanting to move apart.

“I’m sorry, my dear, my love,” he said thickly. “This is not the time or the place...”

Belle smiled and stroked his face and kissed him gently and rested her hands on his chest. “We’ll have all the time in the world when we get out of here. I love you.”

Rumplestiltskin smiled back at her, allowing himself to be happy in that moment. “And I love you too, so much.”

But then Belle frowned slightly. “Why doesn’t anything happen when we kiss?” she asked. “Is it true then, that they’ve successfully blocked all magic, even True Love?”

Rumple’s face hardened and he looked away from her. “It’s because of the wards they’ve put up…and what they’ve done. The wards block magic, but the strongest types – True Love and the darkest of Dark Magic – could still have gotten through. So they used warped ancient spells, magic that was too old and should have been forgotten, to block True Love. 

In the reservoir under the cathedral, I believe there are Charter Stones. Or an awful appropriation of them. Charter Stones were sources of magic for this kingdom, a long, long time ago, but the bastards here twisted something good for their own purposes. They destroyed the Great Stones in the reservoir and created new ones. Then instead of performing the final awakening ceremony that would bring the stones alive and bind them to the magic of the land, they waited. On one they sacrificed a pair of lovers, and used their blood to perform a ritual that would create a warped stone, one that cancels out True Love.”

“That’s horrible,” said Belle, shivering, thankful for Rumple's closeness. “But you said Dark Magic could get through too…?”

He laughed harshly. “Aye, the darkest of Dark Magic, the magic of yours truly, can still function. I don’t think they know that though. It’s often thought that True Love is the strongest form of magic, and so they thought if they were able to block that, all magic would be blocked. 

But the curse of the Dark One is more ancient any spell they could have found. The Dark Magic the holder of the dagger wields can still be used despite all their precautions. Not enough, though, to completely destroy the Charter Stones and take down the wards. 

To block magic completely, they would have needed the sacrifice of a Dark One. I think that’s what they wanted with you, my dear. They were confident my magic wouldn’t work and wanted to lure me here and use my blood for a ritual similar to the one they already preformed. I believe they created a second stone, one that stil lies dormant. Had they obtained the blood of a Dark One and completed the ritual, it would have sealed the wards and made them irreversible, effectively stripping the land of magic. 

The fools misunderstood the powers they sought to control, and thus I think I can destroy what they set out to create.”

“But you just said the Dark One’s magic wasn’t enough to destroy everything?”

Rumplestiltskin sighed and there was pain and sadness on his face. “Because of what we have, because I have both love and darkness, I can harness something stronger. The Darkness is powerful enough that it allows me to get past the broken Charter Stone and find the Light Magic of True Love, and then together, with Light and Dark Magic, I can bring down the wards and destroy the warped charter stones.” 

He finished, but wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“But what?” asked Belle. “I think there’s something you’re not telling me.”

Still looking away, he struggled to find the words. “All magic comes with a price. I’ve always fought to keep the curse from consuming me completely, I’ve fought to try to stay somewhat human. But to overcome all they’ve put in place, I will need to go farther into the Darkness than I ever have before, and if I do, I won’t be able to come back from it. Or at least, the human won’t. Using and sustaining so much dark magic will drain my life force.

The Dark One might leave the reservoir, but Rumplestiltskin won’t.”

“No! I don’t want to lose you. Not again,” said Belle, her voice breaking. “But what about the Light Magic? Doesn't that counteract the Darkness?”

He sighed. “I don’t think so. The strongest breaking spell involves the binding together of Light and Dark Magic, and the only way to do that is through more Dark Magic.”

“Surely there’s another way?” 

She reached to stroke his cheek and he finally met her eyes.

“It is cruel we have such a short time together, but I know of no other way,” he murmured. “The sickness of a land without magic will spread. The price to stop it – one life – is not high. Not when measured against the greater good.” 

She hugged him tightly, her face buried in his chest, and he held her, and together they stood for a long minute. Finally he pulled back.

“Before we rejoin the rescue party, there is something you must promise me.” He reached into a pocket and pulled out a ring on a silver chain. “This ring has a powerful protection spell, a spell strong enough even to protect you against the Dark One. You-“

“But you would never hurt me,” said Belle, backing away from the proffered ring. “I refuse to consider that possibility.” She didn’t want to accept it because accepting it would mean accepting that she was going to lose him.

Rumplestiltskin closed his eyes briefly. The curse was starting to flare up again and it was getting harder to push it back. It wanted revenge on the Cloisters and it wanted Belle and it made it difficult to think straight. 

“But you must. I don’t what will happen in the reservoir, or who or what will leave, but I will be able to enter with a lighter heart if I know no matter what you’ll be safe. Without a human soul to counterbalance it, the Darkness can still exist, but not forever. It will fade over time and slowly dissipate, but I do not know how long it will linger on, and because of that, I must be assured of your safety. Right now I can fight with the curse, and push it back, but without the human element there’s no telling what it might do, and I will not put you at risk. I fear it might come after you.” 

When she still hesitated, he said softly, “If it helps, you could consider it a token from an alternate life, one where a ring could simply have been a promise from one lover to another of a lifetime together. An alternate world, where we could have all the time we don’t have in this one, where we could have had very different lives.”

And so she took the ring, and slipped the chain around her neck, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “Very well,” she said tremulously.

“You must wear it always,” he reminded her.

“I will,” she said. “And I’ll think of you and the future we could have had.” Her voice trembled a little, but she remained composed and said quietly, “What now?”

Rumplestiltskin nodded, his heart breaking a little. There wasn’t time for oversentimentality. It wouldn’t do to dwell on what might have been. “We should go. Ruby and Esmerelda are waiting – how this all came about is a story you should get from them later.”

He unbuckled his sword and handed it to her. 

“I will take off the magic inhibiting cuff. I thought they might be able to detect magic use and so I wasn’t going to take any chances. But now I have found you and I will protect you and so you should take the sword. But I cannot be assured of what will happen when I take it off, for the curse, having been blocked and now confronted with the wards, might be hard to contain.”

He hesitated though, and Belle stepped forward and took his face in her hands and kissed him deeply.

“I love you, Rumplestiltskin. I will always love you.”

Not able to bring himself to reply, he just nodded again and pulled off the cuff. He felt the surge of power from the curse and the headache vanished. It felt so good to know he could use magic again and he had to struggle not to start using it again right away. 

Belle noticed that as he took off the cuff, he straightened and seemed to stand taller, and something hardened in his face. His shadow on the wall took on forms of its own. Without speaking he offered her his arm and they walked arm-in-arm down the stairs. 

They reached the landing before the main hall, and paused at the sound of approaching footsteps.

It was Frollo and four guards. They stopped abruptly at the sight of the Dark One, Frollo looking rather smug, but the guards decidedly less so.

Frollo was the first to speak, barely concealed triumph in his voice. “So, Rumplestiltskin, you did come after all. I am impressed you were able to get in without detection. Unfortunately I don’t think you will be leaving.” He nodded to the guards and they began to spread out to try to surround them.

Rumplestiltskin stepped forward, feeling the curse and his anger taking control. Belle tried to step forward with him, a hand on his arm, but he hissed, “Be quiet and get back. I will deal with them.” The words were imbued with power and Belle felt herself forced back and watched, sick at heart, as he approached Frollo. She didn’t want him to use more Dark Magic than he had to, but she recognized she couldn’t stop him.

“You fool,” he snarled, the rage in his face such that Frollo finally looked properly alarmed. “How could someone with no magic of his own, who had never studied it, hope to understand a world with magic? You think you blocked it? You are mistaken.” 

And with a twitch of his hand, the nearest guard fell to the ground, his neck broken.

At the prospect of facing down the Dark One with his magical powers intact, the other three guards began to back away.

“Go on,” Rumplestiltskin said to them, his eyes never leaving Frollo. “My quarrel is not with you. It is with him.” The guards broke and ran, and Frollo finally realized that there was no way out for him.

“You are a monster,” Frollo said, his voice trembling. “The world would have been a better place without you and your demon magic.”

“No,” said Rumplestiltskin. “Ours is a world with magic, and it is you who were in the wrong. You should never have tried to grapple with powers beyond your understanding. The price for misunderstanding, for dragging me here to this godforsaken land, is death.” And he reached forward and seized Frollo’s heart. 

He heard Belle gasp and say, “Rumplestiltskin!” but he ignored her and squeezed, telling himself it was for revenge, that Frollo had been behind Belle’s kidnapping and the strengthening of the wards, and trying to push aside the savage joy of the curse from taking a life in such a way. It had been a long time since he had killed anyone that way. Frollo fell to the floor and he opened his hand, letting the dust fall.

Rumplestitlskin stood, breathing deeply, feeling the hum of power in his blood, when he felt a small touch on his arm. It was Belle.

“I really am a monster,” he told her conversationally, the Darkness numbing other emotions. “It is better that things end they way they will.”

“I will never believe that,” she told him sadly, wishing she could make him believe it himself just for a moment. “To me you will always be a man. The man that I love.”

He looked away and they continued to make their way to the main hall, where they saw the other members of the rescue party were already waiting.

“Belle!” Ruby ran forward and embraced her friend.

“Ruby! You’ll have to tell me everything. And Esmerelda! I… thank you both, so much.”

Rumplestiltskin watched the reunion, glad at least that Belle had such loyal friends in her life. He gave them a minute, but then cleared his throat.

“It is time for our ways to part. I will transport you out of the Cloisters, back to the city, because once the wards are destroyed, there is a good chance the Cloisters will come down with them.”

“I’m staying with you.” Belle stepped apart from her friends and walked back towards him, a determined look on her face

“No. You’re not.” Rumplestiltskin caught Ruby’s eye, and nodded slightly. “Belle, you must go.” He stroked her cheek but would not prolong their farewell. It would be better to get it over with. “I love you, but I will not put you in danger. You will not stay. Our paths diverge here.” 

Ruby stepped forward to grip Belle’s arm. 

“Ruby, you let go of me-“ Belle began, but Rumplestiltskin stepped back and waved his hand to transport the five of them – Ruby, Belle, Esmerelda, Ferka, and Quasimodo - out of the Cloisters. It pained him greatly to send her away so abruptly, but it was the only way, and the Darkness was already rising in his mind, eagerly anticipating the massive amount of power that would be necessary to get past the wards.

He turned to the staircase that would lead down to the reservoir underneath the main hall before the purple smoke cleared, and so he didn’t notice that Belle had eluded his magic by holding on to the ring he had given her.


End file.
